Maxime de la Rocheterie on Marie-Antoinette

"She was not a guilty woman, neither was she a saint; she was an upright, charming woman, a little frivolous, somewhat impulsive, but always pure; she was a queen, at times ardent in her fancies for her favourites and thoughtless in her policy, but proud and full of energy; a thorough woman in her winsome ways and tenderness of heart, until she became a martyr."

John Wilson Croker on Marie-Antoinette

"We have followed the history of Marie Antoinette with the greatest diligence and scrupulosity. We have lived in those times. We have talked with some of her friends and some of her enemies; we have read, certainly not all, but hundreds of the libels written against her; and we have, in short, examined her life with– if we may be allowed to say so of ourselves– something of the accuracy of contemporaries, the diligence of inquirers, and the impartiality of historians, all combined; and we feel it our duty to declare, in as a solemn a manner as literature admits of, our well-matured opinion that every reproach against the morals of the queen was a gross calumny– that she was, as we have said, one of the purest of human beings."

Edmund Burke on Marie-Antoinette

"It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the queen of France, then dauphiness, at Versailles; and surely there never lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. I saw her just above the horizon, decorating and cheering the elevated sphere she had just begun to move in, glittering like a morning star full of life and splendor and joy. Oh, what a revolution....Little did I dream that I should have lived to see such disasters fall upon her, in a nation of gallant men, in a nation of men of honor and of cavaliers! I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their scabbards, to avenge even a look which threatened her with insult. But the age of chivalry is gone; that of sophisters, economists, and calculators has succeeded...."

~Edmund Burke, October 1790

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Saturday, August 1, 2015

Born and raised in the South, I have naturally known Southern ladies
all my life, starting with my momma, her friends, and my aunts; moving
on to my schoolteachers, Sunday school teachers, and the mothers of my
friends. As a child, I simply assumed all women were like these
wonderful ladies who, each in her own way, strongly, gently, and often
unintentionally shaped who I grew up to be.

Somehow I managed to hold onto this assumption until, as a young
married woman, I came to know Jeanne Prescott, the wife of my husband’s
boss. To me, Jeanne was the epitome of a Southern lady. She had done a
fine job of raising a good boy and a sweet girl. Her style of dress was
always tasteful, appropriate, and pretty. She could be counted on to be
kind, thoughtful, and genuinely interested in you. And to my delight,
beneath her calm and reserved manner lurked a wicked wit that would leap
out unexpectedly and send me into fits of laughter.

So when Jeanne shared her story with me, I was surprised. She was
actually born and raised in Danville, Illinois, coming to live in the
South after she married Jim, a small-town Georgia boy. As a newlywed,
she found herself plunged into a culture foreign to her. She felt like
an outsider who didn’t fit in with Southern ladies—that is until, after
studying us, she finally figured us out. “All you have to do,” she told
me, “is say two things: ‘How’s yo’ momma?’ and ‘Love yo’ hair’.”

Who knew? Since then, I pay more attention to what we say—and we do
have our ways. Maybe I’ve had one of the worst days of my life: The dog
ran away; the school called to tell me that my child got sick and needs
to come home; my mother called to tell me she fell and might need me to
take her to the hospital for X-rays; my husband, unable to get through,
left a message on my cell phone that he’s bringing two friends home for
supper; there are no groceries to speak of in the house, and as Southern
humorist Lewis Grizzard put it, “Elvis is dead and I don’t feel so good
myself.” Yet on this very day, if I run into a Southern lady friend at
the grocery store, I know our exact conversation: “Well, hi, how are
you?” she’ll ask. And smiling, I will answer, “Just fine, thank you, how
are you?”

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